From grief to mission

Christians around the world just celebrated Easter, the central celebration in Christianity. Easter points to the resurrection of Christ, which  means that  death does not have the last word in those who follow Jesus.   But the first Easter was filled with confusion, pain, uncertainty, and darkness. Those who were grieving the dead Jesus — that is his mother, friends and followers—  also experienced a profound sense of disorientation after his death. Their hope that Jesus "was" the awaited Messiah who would gather the tribes of Israel, cleanse the temple, deliver Israel from their enemies, and reign among the nations  vanished on that first good Friday.   Darkness came upon the earth the Friday of his death, and upon the hearts of those who loved Him.  

Mary Magdalene, one of Jesus' followers goes to his tomb while it was still dark on the following Sunday. Who is brave enough to go to a tomb in the dark?   

1) One whose love is deeper than her fear. 

2) One who experienced freedom from dark oppression thanks to Jesus (Luke 8)  

2) One who was invested enough to break an ultra expensive jar of perfume on Jesus feet despite much criticism (John 12)

4) One, whose past life taught her to walk in the dark alone, likely a sex worker.

This time it was true love that led her through dark streets and towards a tomb. It was the tomb of her redeemer who was now dead. She was going there to grief and to care for his body. Her heart was in a dark place again. To her surprise things got worse. Jesus' body was missing!  The story she told herself was that the soldiers must have taken his body.  (We all tell ourselves stories in the dark. ) But that was not the true story.  Mary expected to find soldiers, but found angels. She expected a dead Jesus but found a missing one first, and then  a live one. She was absolutely disoriented, as the story reads in John 20:

11 Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.

13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

17 Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.

The first Easter turned Mary's grief into a new sense of mission.  She became the apostle to the apostles. She was tasked by the risen Christ to tell his friends the good news of his resurrection.  Another miraculous change in her life.

In my hospice work, I have had the honour of witnessing profound movements from grief and disorientation into a renewed sense of identity and purpose—a kind of mission. Devoted spouses, after losing their life partners, often channel their love into meaningful causes in their partner’s memory. Families who have experienced stillbirth choose to name their child, celebrate their birthday each year, and raise funds to support causes close to their hearts. These deeply grieving individuals, walking through dark and uncertain places—much like Mary Magdalene—are, in time, met again by light and love. 

What stories are you telling yourself in dark times?  and 

What may be the voice of truth and love be saying to you, as they call you by your  name?